Page 54 of Devilry

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It’smy first day back, and my first class is the one where I teach Elijah. My nerves are shot to shit. It’s been radio silence from him. As it should be, but I need it to not be a fucking issue.

He sits all the way at the back, and my ego takes a hit that he doesn’t even want to try and sneak up closer to me. How is it that he’s turned into the adult and I’m the one wanting us both to be reckless and irresponsible?

The class ends, the students faring better than I expected considering my absence. I wait for Elijah to stop and stay behind, but much to my dismay he leaves the class without even a second glance.

Not even bothering to stay back and sift through my paperwork, I pack up my shit and head out of the lecture hall.

I swing the door open, and like a slap in the face, Elijah is just behind the door, hisfriendstuck to his side as usual. His surprised face morphs into guilt and anguish, and I don’t even let myself feel bad for making him feel like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Elijah,” I greet through gritted teeth. Something about my tone must incite his friend to interrupt and introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m Aiden.”

I give him a nod, my body too tight and tense to provide any words.

“This is Professor Huxley,” Elijah fills in for me.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around. Eli loves your class.”

The offhanded compliment unknowingly breaks the ice. My shoulders sag, every part of me acknowledging my irrationality.

“He’s a great student.” I clear my throat and glance at him one more time. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Aiden, do you think I could meet you and Callie later? I just want to ask Professor Huxley something about the research project.”

“Yeah, man,” he eyes me suspiciously. “I’ll see you later.”

When Aiden walks off, I look at Elijah expectantly. “Something you need to say?”

When he doesn’t answer me, I start to walk away.

Catching up to me, he blows out a long breath. “Please, don’t walk away from me.”

“I figured maybe we can do this in private,” I bite back.

Side by side, step by step, our long strides match until we reach my office.

The second the door closes, he pounces. “You can’t look at me that way.”

“What way?” I challenge, walking to my desk and placing my bag down.

“Like I’m doing something wrong.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Turning around, I rest my backside on the edge of the desk and cross my ankles. There’s a significant distance between us, and it takes everything in me to stand my ground.

“Fine. I must’ve misread the situation.” He pauses, as if he’s waiting for me to say something. To argue or defend myself. When I do neither, he shakes his head in disappointment. “I’m going to go.” He throws his hands up in the air in defeat and turns to leave.

“Elijah, wait.” He stills, but doesn’t look back at me. “Why didn’t you respond to my email?”

“What?” he whirls back around, his eyes incredulous.

“You emailed me and then when I emailed you back you didn’t reply.”

God, I sound so pathetic.

“And say what?” he shouts. “Hey, I know your mom needs you, but I can’t stop thinking about your dick in my mouth.”

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